My Pregnant Life

 

Let’s talk about what people think of when they hear the term “bed rest.”

1.  Lazing around all day, uninterrupted.
2.  People to wait on you and bring you food.
3.  Not having to run any errands or take care of any domestic activities.
4.  Getting out of work for awhile.
5.  Time away from existing children who run around the house, screaming.
6.  A fancy-free vacation for the last bit of pregnancy.
7.  A time where your husband/boyfriend/SO/whatever will bring you things that you need to keep you entertained.
8.  A bunch of free time where you can catch up on reading and trashy television.
9.  A time when you have the ability to nap any time you want.
10. In general, a total holiday at which you will look upon fondly later in life, longing to have it happen again.

Now let’s talk about what bed rest actually is, because this seems to be a common misconception.

1.  Being prisoner to a bed…24 hours a day…no questions asked.
2.  You have to rely on others for everything, including something as simple as water.  That means you have to call a nurse, wait for them to finish with other patients, and then wait for them to get you whatever you need.
3.  Not being able to get out of bed, even for something as simple as getting the mail.  You start to miss doing housework after about two days of bed rest.
4.  Getting out of work/school for awhile.  Yes, this is a novelty for a hot minute; however, most people don’t understand exactly how boring this gets.
5.  Even if they scream 24 hours a day, you WILL start to miss your children.  I don’t have any existing children…and I’m actually starting to miss the noise of screaming drunk kids on campus.
6.  The whole “vacation” mentality lasts for about 48 hours.  After that, having to stay in bed all the time is a pain in the ass…not only figuratively, but literally as well.  You will develop a soreness that is indescribable, starting around day five.  It will momentarily get better, only to become excruciating around day 15…and you can’t do anything to make it go away.
7.  Having your husband/boyfriend/SO/whatever bring you things is somewhat entertaining…for a day.  After that you get pissed that (a) you can’t do it for yourself, (b) you have to ask for everything, one item at a time, describe where it may or may not be located, and have it brought to you.  This is the most inefficient way of doing things.  Ever.
8.  The reading is fantastic…for a week.  What you don’t understand is that when you lie down in basically one position for that long, you get excruciating headaches from all of the fluid collecting in one spot of your head.  This makes reading painful, if possible at all.  Also, unless you have unlimited funds, you will run out of books in a week if you read any faster than the speed of an eight year old.
9.  Yes, you have the ability to nap any time you want.  Unfortunately, after a couple days, you don’t *want* to anymore.  If the only thing you can do is nap, napping loses its luster very quickly.  Also, the more you nap, the more tired you are, and the more it throws off your circadian rhythms, making it so you’re barely aware of where you are and what day it is.
10. There is one good thing that will come out of this: a healthy baby.  Other than that, you will not look back fondly on bed rest.  You will not long to be on bed rest again.  Being on bed rest is the same thing as being an invalid, and anyone who wishes for that has a few screws loose (or Munchausen).

So here is my clarification: when most people hear the term “bed rest,” what they actually hear is “being lazy for the day.”  Almost everyone can remember a time when they got sick and were “in bed for a week.”  But you weren’t actually IN BED for the week, were you?  You got up to go to the bathroom, take showers, walk to the kitchen for some juice or food, walk to the living room to watch television, go take a bath…in fact, if you weren’t a young child when this happened, you probably even drove to WalGreens to pick up some TheraFlu or cough drops.  THAT is not bed rest.  That is being sick and/or lazy for the week.

Sure, after I have the baby I might miss being able to take a nap and spend the afternoon watching Law & Order; however, I will NEVER miss being a prisoner in a bed where I have to rely on everyone else for everything I need.  After I get out of here, you can pretty much bet that I’ll be one of the most active people on the planet.

My Week on Bed Rest

After spending a week on modified bed rest (read: lying down most of the time), I thought I would write a blog about what I have done to pass the time.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time meditating, doing homework, and napping.  Most of the time, I don’t nap on purpose; however, many people don’t understand that the longer you lie down, the more tired you get.  What does that mean?  I nap for eight to ten hours a day and am still exhausted at the end of that!  Additionally, I’ve been having fun feeling Spaceman move around, and I’m at the point where I can start to see my belly moving when he kicks.  That alone can entertain me for hours.  At some point though, I have to find something else to do…and that’s where the trashy television has come into play.  I will go out on a limb and say that more often than not, daytime television programming is all trashy reality shows.  Some of them are just painful to watch.  Others, though, are so painful that you can’t turn them off.  I will talk a little about those…

What Not to Wear

This show is not trashy in itself, but the people who are on the show are just painful to watch.  If you haven’t seen this show before, people nominate someone in their life who is an exceptionally bad dresser.  Most of the people who go on this show are constantly dressed in pajamas, scrubs, clothes that are 40 sizes to big, or clothes that are 40 sizes to small.  Occasionally they have people on the show who are 50 years old and share clothes with their nine year old children.  I’m currently watching an episode where a 46 year old woman dresses like her seven year old daughter because “dressing like a grown up means you’re old and going to die.”  Crazy.  Anyway, this is a show that is painful to watch the people who are on it; however, I like to watch it to see how they turn out at the end.  That being said, I fully realize that the majority of the time I dress in yoga pants and some sort of long sleeved shirt; however, the difference is that I understand that and don’t think that I look amazing.  Also, while pregnant, this is the easiest thing for me to wear without going out and spending $500 on new clothes.  (side note: more stores need to carry maternity clothes…not just online.  PREGNANT WOMEN NEED TO TRY ON CLOTHES IN THE STORE!!!)

Toddlers & Tiaras

This is TRULY a painful show to watch.  It’s like a train wreck.  The children are horrendous, the mothers are RIDICULOUS, and once it’s on, I can’t turn it off.  This show follows around toddler beauty pageant contestants and [generally] their mothers.  These are mothers that take their children (usually daughters) to do things like spray tan, get waxed, get fake teeth (flippers), and spend upwards of $1000 per outfit in order for them to compete in glitz pageants.  Apparently the most cut-throat divisions in these pageants are the 4-5 age group and the 6-8 age group (or something like that).  These little girls (and their mothers) are one short step away from pulling a Tonya Harding at every pageant.  Just in case you haven’t seen this show, here is a clip of one of the girls who is frequently followed.  And yes, she’s almost five years old and flipping out about her pacifier (Ni-Ni).

Police Women of Broward County

This is actually somewhat entertaining (at least to me).  It’s a show that follows around the female police officers of Broward County, a la COPS.  The train wreck part of the show deals with the people who are being arrested.  Many of these people are…well…not the brightest crayons in the box.  My favorite quote of last week occurred when a female drug dealer was being arrested.  The officer was patting her down, and out of her bra falls some weed.  The dealer said, “oh, that’s not mine.  It’s windy out here…it must have blown in there.”  Okay really?  How windy does it have to be for weed to blow into your bra?  Also, this statement wouldn’t have been *quite* as heinous, if the weed that fell out of her bra hadn’t been SEVENTEEN PREPACKAGED quarter-ounce bags.  I mean…really?  17 quarter bags blew into your bra?  WOW.  If you’re going to lie to the police, at least make up something that MIGHT be plausible (although in that situation, there really isn’t a good lie short of alien abduction, which is only believable if you live in New Mexico).

Okay, so that has basically been my week.  Fortunately, most of the programming has been so terrible that I have finished most of my homework for the next five weeks.  Yep, motivated to do homework when nothing is on television!

The Music of My Youth

I think that everyone has an affinity to the music with which they grew up.  I was born in 1980, but in addition to whatever was on the radio, at my house we listened to a lot of classical, Motown, Elton John, and the girl groups of the 60s (Whoopi would be proud!).  My mom and I used to sing Stevie Wonder’s music along with Diana Ross…and of course Mom’s favorite Elton John song, “Benny and the Jets.”  My favorite of my parents’ records growing up was Thriller.  That being said, when I was in my twos and threes, apparently my favorite songs were Abracadabra and Elvira.  Anyway, today is a musically nostalgic day!  Here come a bunch of my favorites from when I was growing up.  Oh, and if any of you want to share your favorites with me, feel free to post them here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/249229558457541/#!/groups/249229558457541/249264608454036/?notif_t=group_activity

In no particular order…here we go!

Elton John–Benny and the Jets

Elton John–Crocodile Rock (the best performance is OBVIOUSLY from The Muppet Show!)

Stevie Wonder–I Just Called to Say I Love You

Otis Redding–I’ve Been Loving You Too Long

Jackson 5–I Wanna Be Where You Are (listen for Jamerson’s smooth bass line!)

Michael Jackson–Billie Jean (yes, the first time he revealed the moonwalk at 3:38)

Madonna–Vogue (I can’t NOT add this one!)

Gladys Knight and the Pips–Midnight Train to Georgia

The Supremes–You Can’t Hurry Love

The Temptations–Ain’t Too Proud to Beg

Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell–Ain’s No Mountain High Enough

Bill Withers–Ain’t No Sunshine

There are many more than this, but at the risk of making this post thousands of pages long, I’ll save them for later.

Judging from this list, I think I should have been born about 15 years earlier…HA!

Change

Have you ever found yourself stuck on a particular thought that just won’t go away?  It could be a positive thought, a negative thought, or even a neutral thought…but it stays there, much like a song stuck in your head.  Negative thoughts, especially, seem to stick around in a really annoying way.  If a person isn’t adept at just “letting it go” (which is harder than it sounds), these thoughts become even more frustrating.  They begin as a random thought that brushes against the mind…and then many times quickly take over the entire thought process.  For awhile we wallow in these thoughts.  We think “well, if I marinate in it for awhile, it’ll just go away.”  Wrong.  At this point, they become annoyingly present at all times.  The wallowing actually made it worse.  So what is it that we do to get rid of these thoughts?  We have to consciously decide to push them away–negative thoughts have a way of snowballing into something larger than we ever thought possible, and there is no room for that in our lives.

Louise L. Hay says, “It’s only a thought, and a thought can be changed.”  There is so much truth in that statement, however unattainable it may seem at the beginning.  Different things work for different people.  Meditation has always worked for me, where it doesn’t work for others.  Affirmations work for other people and don’t seem to work as well for me.  Some people run, bike, swim, or dance (all forms of moving meditation); some people write, paint, play an instrument, or sculpt (all forms of creative meditation).  Whatever you do that works for you, keep doing that.

Recently I have gotten back into the habit of daily meditation along with a physical practice (either swimming or yoga).  It has come to my attention that instead of waiting for something to happen and then going back to meditation, I should be meditating and practicing all the time in order to buffer those situations in the first place.  I guess it’s similar to taking care of your car.  If you have the oil changed regularly, put gas in it, and keep everything tuned up, you won’t be going into the shop every month because the engine has fallen out and the tires keep exploding.  Of course, there are always the fluke accidents…but they shouldn’t be a regular thing.

Il nostro Ambiente

After living in the desert for a year, I have come to gain a new appreciation for the environment.  In the midwest, environmental responsibility is almost strictly limited to recycling (though admittedly, a very small percentage of people either take the bus, ride their bike, or walk to work).  The desert version of environmental responsibility is vastly different, partially because of the region and partially because of the people.

I’m sure it comes as no shock to all of you that in the desert (even the high desert) we have quite the shortage of water.  I’ve never lived somewhere that I actually looked forward to the rain; however, New Mexico is a whole different playing field.  In the midwest, it seemed as though it rained two or three times a month, and when it did rain, it would pour for a week.  The rain was so intense that we would sit inside for hours, just hoping that it would stop so we could go outside.  Many times it would be raining so hard that we couldn’t see even a foot in front of the car, making it impossible to drive.  It used to be somewhat of a joke that as soon as it started raining, we would see more people pulled over on the side of the highway than actually driving on it.  Here, that isn’t the case.

We are currently in what is supposed to be our monsoon season (my favorite time of the year here).  It rains pretty much every day for about 20 minutes and then goes right back to being sunny.  This year, however, that hasn’t happened yet.  Sure, it has rained a few times in the past two months, but nowhere near as much as it’s supposed to.  This lack of rain leads to extended periods of incredibly high fire warnings (for those of you playing the home game, most of our part of the state has, at some point, been on fire in the last two months…and most of that area is still closed).

So here in New Mexico, it is amazing to see how the people treat the earth on which they live.  The entire theme around which everything is based has to do with the natural state of the desert.  All of the architecture reflects this, the art reflects this, and even the music reflects this (keep your ears open in November for the premier of one Desert Faith Mass which promises to be amazing…or, I promise it’ll be amazing…I should know, because I’ve heard most of it).  In a discussion with a friend the other day, we both noted that in many places in the country, people landscape with plants nonindigenous to their region.  The more things you can fit in your yard, the better–especially if the plants are “out-of-towners.”  In New Mexico, for example, there isn’t a lot of grass.  If you have a yard full of grass, people actually look at you like you are insane (which honestly, if you have grass, you ARE insane).  We both said the same thing: “Do you know how much water you’re wasting by trying to keep that grass alive?”

So when is it that we decide that taking care of the environment is more important than bending it to our whim?  When do we stop treating the earth like our personal molding clay and start treating it with respect?  It is our job to take care of the environment, not destroy it.  It is our job to live amongst it, not radically alter it in order to make it something that “works better” with our lifestyles.

We’ve been singing this song at church for the last month or so, and I feel like it’s pretty appropriate to put right here.  Maybe it’ll make you think–maybe it won’t.  At any rate, at least it might make you vaguely more aware of the larger picture, even at a subconscious level.

Touch the earth lightly, use the earth gently, nourish the life of the world in our care;

Gift of great wonder, ours to surrender, trust for the children tomorrow will bear.

Let there be greening, birth from the burning, water that blesses, and air that is sweet;

Health in God’s Garden, hope in God’s children, regeneration that peace will complete.

The Risk to Be Touched

I’m reading something called The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo.  If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it.  It’s a “daybook”–that is, it’s one of those books where you read one entry every day for a year.  I seem to think that once I come full circle with this book, I’ll probably read it again and again.  Yesterday’s entry was titled “The Risk to Be Touched,” and it was quite poignant.

Nepo writes that the simplest reason that we want to be touched is that touch heals us.  He goes on to say that what hinders this is our fear to let others into our personal space.  We fear being hurt by a multitude of reasons; however, these are all reasons that even though they may be rooted in past experiences, are only perpetuated by the power of our own minds.  In effect, we are our own worst enemy.  Our minds hold power over us that is impossible to understand, at best.

So where is it that we draw the line between fear and acceptance?  When is it that we push the mind chatter to the back and exist in the silence and peace at our core?  Of course, if I had the definitive answer to those questions, I would be the author of a best-selling book.  Eventually, we need to take that chance with other people, accept them at face value, and take the hand they offer.  Though we can be incredibly self-reliant animals, eventually we need the support of others.

Nepo closes the entry with the following paragraph:

“Sometimes we would do better to admit the heart works best in mime.  For beneath the worries and fears of being hurt or rejected or taken advantage of, beneath the avalanche of excuses and explanations, there waits a deep and simple pulse that we need from each other in order to be whole.”

And really, when one person becomes whole, doesn’t that inspire others to do the same, thus coming closer to the ultimate goal of supporting not just those around us, but everyone on the planet?

Clown Cars and Music Theory

After I wrote my first blog about our new church (“Amalgamate”) I received a few “concerned” emails.  These emails expressed what boils down to a fear for my eternal soul.  Apparently the church that we’re attending is “too accepting,” and according to these people, that is a problem.  How funny that a church where they actually act the way Jesus did is the “wrong type” of church.  Go figure.  That being said, I was reminded by a friend of a bumper sticker that says “God Loves Everyone–No Exceptions.”  I found that somewhat humorous in light of the current situation.  I was told that we shouldn’t pick a church because we agree with their “opinions” (I put that in quotes because that it what the email said).  Well…at least to me, agreeing with the message seems to be an important criterion.  Maybe I’m crazy, but I wouldn’t pick a church where I don’t agree with anything they say–that would just be stupid.

Fast forward to my most recent blog about the theory papers that I wrote.  A seemingly non-religious subject: music theory.  I have been informed that I am wrong…through more emails.  What I gathered from the majority of these emails is that college was a time for me to get all of that pesky independence out of my system and meet a husband.  Apparently I was supposed to be spending thousands of dollars on tuition in order to get an M.R.S. degree.  I thought these people had met me before, but I’m guessing they never paid any attention to my actual personality.  According to most of them, this music theory business is just the inevitable next step of Satan trying to get his hooks in me (their words, not mine).  The first step was us going to this church that is “so focused on accepting everyone and all that diversity nonsense.”  Still not grasping the connection between the two subjects at all, but whatever.  Many of them told me that now that I’m 30, it’s time for me to settle down with this “school nonsense,” be a “good housewife,” and focus on having lots of babies.  Wow.  Who knew that it was supposed to happen like that?  We won’t even go into the “focus on having babies” part, as I might have a little [precedented] explosion…you know, like the kind you have when inadvertently provoked in the middle of some random store amongst unknowing people…yeah, that kind.

Needless to say, I deleted quite a few people from my Facebook friends list in the past couple days.  I’m sorry if they think that the church we love is evil, just because they don’t preach all the fire and brimstone nonsense and they actually accept everyone.  I’m sorry if they think that I should become a “good housewife” and settle in to spend the rest of my child-bearing years cranking them out like a clown car.  But more than anything, I’m sorry that they don’t grasp the actual concept of the religion they claim to practice.  Social justice, environmentalism, equal rights, activism, helping those in need…I’m pretty sure these are foreign concepts to most of these people…and I’m willing to put money on the fact that they won’t ever want to learn about them.

Just a random observation from the world of feminist, educated, logical, socially conscious Lauren.

Discombobulation

Apparently I haven’t written a blog in almost a month.  “Why is that?” you ask.  Just after I wrote the last blog, I began doing my analyses and research for two theory papers.  These papers were to serve as my portfolio in my application packet to the MMus program at UNM.  Keep in mind that I haven’t actually analyzed any music in almost eight years, so this task proved to be somewhat of a stretch for me.  Difficult?  Not really.  But let’s just say that my brain spent a fair amount of time sweating during this mental workout.  I think it is also fair to say that when presented with a handful of augmented sixth chords in the Beethoven piece, I spent more time banging my head against the wall than actually figuring out the function of the chords.

Let me begin by saying that I’ve never written papers like these before (and was told by a friend that these type of papers aren’t normally written in undergraduate programs, so there was no reason for me to have experience writing them), so the whole concept of a theory paper was somewhat foreign to me.  The Beethoven paper was straightforward as far as information goes.  I chose the first movement of the Op. 10 No. 3.  So…write some background on sonata form, write some background on the piece, examine any noteworthy sections based on analysis, write a conclusion.  Done.  The Marrolli piece, however, was a different animal all unto itself.

At first glance, the Marrolli piece looks simple–and strictly speaking of the notes, it is.  That being said, it starts with a spoken section (that after a few measures has voices in different time signatures) where voice parts are pitted against each other.  After a handful of bars, a drone enters that stabilizes a simple melody in the upper voices.  This is the end of the normality of the piece.  In comes people singing the melody whenever they want at basically whatever speed they want.  That section was the easiest to analyze, as the whole section is one giant D-minor chord.  Here comes the fun part: the last section of the piece has eight chords.  No, not eight chords over and over…just eight chords. People sing one word throughout the entire section, and similar to previously, sing it at whatever tempo they want.  The whole section creates this support system for the mezzo solo that is floating above.  Okay, so there is the whole run-down in a tiny, tiny nutshell.  This is the analysis that proved to be the most difficult for me because the majority of the analysis was over the programmatic aspect of the piece.  It is really simple to listen to a story, hear a piece that is telling that story, and then say, “oh yeah, I totally hear all of that.”  It’s a whole other thing to sit down and make a bunch of inferences about what you think is going on.  But…the papers are written, so that’s all that matters!

 

Hopefully I wrote something similar to what the selection committee is expecting.  Who knows, maybe it’s exactly what they want…or maybe it’s nothing like what they’re expecting.  In a perfect world, they will look at it and say, “we MUST have her in our program!”  (especially because I wrote a paper about a lesser-known composer, right?)  Because of this whole starting-a-PhD-that-I-found-out-that-I-hate-and-now-trying-to-switch-programs-to-music-theory thing, I’ve been quite discombobulated (and I use that word in homage to a recent conversation).  Does that mean that I have ignored my blog writing?  No, but it does mean that I have gone through writing two papers and covering the material in three semesters worth of music history as well as four semesters worth of music theory in the last three weeks.  My brain is fried, yet I can’t get enough.  The more I read, the more I want to know.  Most people in my life know that this is just a part of who I am.

 

 

Now it’s just all about playing the “waiting” game.

 

Pour l’Amour de Musique

I thought I had squelched music after undergrad.  Not squelched it in the sense that I never wanted it in my life anymore, mind you–but squelched in the sense that I thought I was through that part of my life where I needed music in order to breathe and be whole.

This is clearly not the case.

It has become even more apparent in the last few weeks before starting my doctoral program, and now the most prevalent after I’ve finished my first week of classes: I can’t stop thinking about music.  It’s the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of before going to sleep.  If this is where my spirit lies, then I picked the wrong doc program.  Shocking, I know…I’ve spent my entire musical life trying to run away from it in one way or another.  Unfortunately (or fortunately), it has caught up with me and attached itself to my soul.

My mom likes to tell the story of when I was a junior in high school and decided that though it was incredibly icy out, I was going to drive to school.  She said, “you aren’t driving, it’s icy outside.  I will drive you!”  Well, I got upset and walked out, slamming the front door on my way.  It was incredibly icy outside.  I slid off the porch steps and flew partway down the hill in our yard, only being stopped by my shoulder slamming into a tree.  Yes, it hurt.  Did I tell her?  No, not until six months later it  still hurt.  She took me to the doctor and I ended up having torn my entire rotator cuff and had to have it reconstructed.  That means surgery plus four to six months of rehab.  Mom likes to refer to that as the “it’s icy outside” moment, and often brings it up.  Why?  Because every time she tells me something that I don’t pay attention to and then she turns out to be right (which is most of the time), all she has to say to me is, “Lauren, it’s icy outside.”

Music is no different.  I told her today about thinking about going back to music and she replied with, “Lauren…it’s icy outside.”  Why is this?  Because she has told me ever since I was about 10 that I was destined to be in a musical field.  Yes mom, I know, you’re right again.  That being said, it’s not going to be in the realm of piano performance, like most of you would expect.  My performance anxiety is too high to put that kind of stress on my body all the time.  Do I know the specific field I want to pursue?  Not really.  Ethnomusicology, theory, composition…I pretty much want them all.  Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me, so long as it’s music (though most of you also know that I’m somewhat obsessed with theory).

I know at least one person, maybe two, who will appreciate the on-paper (and possibly aural, as well) beauty of the works that are George Crumb’s Makrokosmos.  This is the kind of stuff that makes me excited.  This is the stuff about which I’m passionate.

So many possibilities within so few tiny black dots.

I guess a decision needs to be made.

 

 

 

Le Rocher

In a previous blog, I stated that I believe that everyone who comes into our lives does so for a reason.  This has happened to me for my entire life.  Whether it is a need to learn something, make a change, or see something about myself more clearly,  I get my answering person.  Usually I already know the person; however, at that point in time they clearly emerge as something different than I previously thought.

Many of you know that over the past year, though I have fallen in love with Santa Fe, it has been an incredibly difficult transition for me, especially when it comes to my circle of friends.  Before moving here, I had previously lived in basically the same area for most of my life.  That being said, I have an amazing
circle of friends there; however, it has become increasingly difficult to have the same caliber of conversation via the phone.  Yes, you can talk about many things over the phone, but eventually you need an actual human in front of you to give you feedback.

Somewhat changing gears: I have stated in so many words that the majority of this blog was being written as a healing process.  But what brought me to that point?  In short, a program about healing trauma through the arts.  The person organizing said program needed some people to sing in her choir, so I agreed to do it and didn’t think anything of it.  Unfortunately, not too long into the program, I was starting to have a breakdown concerning some past trauma that had not actually been grieved through.  Sure, I put on the happy face, but I never actually did the work.  Said organizer was the catalyst to starting this process.

I’m going to purposely leave out a plethora of information, as I really just don’t feel the need to share every single detail of my life (if that were the need, I would be on a reality television show…not WordPress).  This person, though has ended up helping me through things that I didn’t even realize were happening.  Two weeks ago when the Joplin tornadoes happened, there is no way that I could have handled all of that myself, being so far away from my childhood home.  She was basically my rock, every time I got a phone call or a text about people dying.  Between her and the church with which we’ve fallen in love, the Joplin news was bearable.

So what can we take from all of this?  Why is it that people always come at the
right time?  And the people who impact our lives in such a profound way…are they drawn to us for the same reason?  I’m a firm believer in everyone having “student” as well as “teacher” moments in life, but can we be both at the same time?  I don’t know that there is a clear answer to that question in my head.  If I had to answer, I guess it would be “yes,” though there have been a few people over the years who have made me wonder.  This particular person would not be one of them.  I’d like to think that if the need ever arose, I would be able to help her in the capacity that she has helped me, but really that will remain an unknown until the situation warrants it.  Or maybe I already have…who knows…but the journey is the fun part.  The fact that it is helping me become a
better person is just icing on the cake.